


Backstage Pass

by Laci_Taleweaver



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Groupies, M/M, Period-Accurate Homophobia, Rock Band AU, the 80s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25978300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laci_Taleweaver/pseuds/Laci_Taleweaver
Summary: It's Launditz Week, and I couldn't get this idea out of my head.  Day 3: Metalheads(Other pairings present as well.)WARNING: This fic is set in the 1980s and contains crass "locker-room talk" and historically-accurate homophobia, including slurs.  Also, there was very little proofreading on this one; it just sorta flooded out after I saw some of the excellent art for the prompt.
Relationships: Android 18/Turles, Launch/Raditz (Dragon Ball), Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Kudos: 9





	Backstage Pass

(Sighted on a poster hanging in downtown Sharpston.)

SON GOKU AND

MONKEY BUSINESS

July 9-10, 198X  
at the  
SHARPSTON CIVIC CENTER

Call 800-455-9880 for tickets

* * *

  
"Man," Kakarot "Son Goku" Simmons breathed as Monkey Business headed backstage after the concert. "The energy in that last set was amazing!" Kakarot was the lead singer and lead guitarist for the band, which was slowly growing in popularity.

"Is that why you're so hoarse?" his brother, Raditz asked, holding his prized bass behind his back by the shoulder strap. **Nobody** touched Raditz' bass. He considered it unlucky, preferring to help set up his bass himself before every show instead of letting the roadies and techs take care of it.

The drummer, Nappa Collins, laughed. "Yer still totin' that thing around instead of letting the crew take care of it, Rad? You need to get laid already, instead of actin' all jealous over your instrument." None of his bandmates like Nappa all that much, but he was a good drummer, and he knew not to cross the line too far.

"Besides, isn't it usually the lead singer who's such a diva?" Chiming in, as always, was the rhythm guitarist, Turles Rodriguez. "Like how Steve Tyler insists on the site crew removing all the brown M&M's from a big bowl of 'em every show?"

"I thought that was Eddie Van Halen," Kakarot croaked, before chugging a whole beer in one go.

"Huh," said Nappa, "Could've sworn it was Jon Bon Jovi."

"I'm not a diva," Raditz huffed, "I just don't want her to get scuffed. Besides, I thought the M&M's thing was to make sure the crew reads the setup instructions right and doesn't fuck up the wiring."

"Can we at least add 'no lite beer' to our setup instructions?" Kakarot muttered, his voice breaking almost every other word. "Tastes like piss."

"How do you know what piss tastes like?" Raditz teased his little brother as he very carefully set his bass in its sticker-emblazoned hard case. "You and that prissy boyfriend of yours getting up to some nasty shit in the bedroom now?"

"Fuck off!"

"Easy there, Bass Boy," Turles said, playfully slugging Raditz' now-unoccupied shoulder. "It's not your fault your brother's a fag."

"I like girls!" Kakarot protested, ignoring the painful strain in his larynx. "I love girls!"

"Which is why you left your high-school sweetheart for that little shrimp?" Nappa joked. He went on in falsetto, "'Oh, Vegeta, you're so _manly_! So _thin_ and _pale_!'" Kakarot slugged him.

"Little fuck probably shaves his balls," Turles laughed. "Can't have his precious boyfriend gagging on the hair before a show."

"Chichi and I are just...on a break." Goku sighed. "We'll get back together after the tour. I just don't wanna settle down right now, and she kept bringing up marriage and kids and shit."

"You know we don't mean nothin' by it, little brother," Raditz said, "we know you're a real man deep down." (He paused and glared at Turles, who'd just stage-whispered "down his throat, maybe" to Nappa.) "You got plenty of time to figure out what you really want and get Pretty Boy out of your system. Just remember that Chichi's not gonna wait around forever."

* * *

_"Hello, this is WRCK 99.5, and you are caller number 9!"_

_"I won?" Launch whooped and pumped her fist in the air. "I won!"_

_"That's right, you and a friend just won VIP tickets to see Monkey Business next Saturday!"_

_The DJ switched to a private connection to obtain Launch's personal information so she could claim her tickets, and started playing Dire Straits over the air._

* * *

Another weekend, another town, another show. Monkey Business was the talk of the tri-state area, and if they played their cards right, they could become serious stars.

High off the energy of the crowds, they headed backstage to the dressing room, where Raditz, as always, gently cradled his precious bass in its case.

"Say, aren't there supposed to be backstage-pass holders this time?" Turles asked as he flopped down into a rickety folding chair.

"Maybe we'll get lucky," Nappa said. "Maybe Diva here can get laid for once, so we know he's not, you know, like his brother."

"You wanna take this outside?" Kakarot yelled, before Vegeta "Raven" Jackson, who'd been waiting backstage, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him away from his massive bandmate.

"Kaka, you're gonna get yourself killed, picking fights with a bruiser like Nappa," the black-clad boy pointed out as the two young men walked hand in hand into the alley behind the theater. "And you know neither your fans nor I want to see a black eye marring that handsome face of yours." He pulled the singer into a deep kiss, his black lipstick smearing onto Kakarot's lips.

"I just wish they'd knock it off for five fucking minutes." Kakarot said as he pulled away. "I'm more than just a cocksucker with a boy toy."

"We can't help being the way we are," Vegeta replied. "If they can't learn to deal with it, then that's their problem." He got out a condom; he wasn't sure it would keep them from getting AIDS, but it had to be better than no protection at all. "Now lemme show you how much I _loved_ your show, monkey man."

* * *

Kakarot and his boyfriend had barely left the dressing room when there was a knock on the door.

"That must be our VIPs now," Turles said with a grin as he opened the door.

Two beautiful blondes in Monkey Business shirts, their hair teased into big, puffy clouds, squealed as they walked in.

"Ah," said Nappa, "music to my ears. Welcome to the dressing room, ladies." He gave them the devilish grin that had gotten a few pairs of panties tossed onto the stage earlier that evening. Unfortunately, neither of the girls seemed to be interested in _him_. Nappa shrugged; he knew he wasn't a lot of girls' type.

"Hi, I'm Launch and this is my best friend Lapis," said the woman who looked like she was about to vibrate right out of her skin from excitement. "Is he here? Is Raditz Simmons back here?"

"You wanted to talk to me?" the bassist asked in disbelief.

"She's got a thing for long hair," Lapis teased. "I'm more interested in finding out more about Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome," she said, winking at Turles.

A fair bit of Turles' blood suddenly flowed downward as a hungry smile lit up the guitar player's face. This was gonna be a hell of an afterparty.

"Um, Mr. Simmons? Can you sign my T-shirt?" Launch asked, pulling a permanent marker out of her purse. "Make it out to Launch Jones."

"It's just Raditz, and sure," Raditz said, gently tugging on the hem of the shirt so he could write.

"Um, here, Mr. uh Raditz. Maybe it'll be easier if I, like, take it off?"

Raditz looked up for a moment, certain he'd misheard, when Launch pulled the hem of her shirt out of his hand and actually lifted it over her head. After shaking his head rapidly to clear it, he said, "Well, I'm certainly not complaining." The bassist spread the T-shirt out on the vanity that was in the room and wrote, "To my #1 fan Launch J!-- ❤Raditz Simmons" in his sharp, angular handwriting.

"Here you are, gorgeous," he said, eyeing the girl in front of him. _Thank god, she looks to be maybe 19 or 20. Not some kid, like the last girl who wanted my autograph._ "Though I must say, you look a lot better without it." Raditz winked. Launch blushed.

Just then, there was the sound of a folding chair collapsing. Turles and Lapis were playing tonsil hockey, and apparently the old chair couldn't support the weight of two people. Neither of them seemed to mind, though; Turles had just removed the little plastic T-shirt buckle that had been holding Lapis' oversized shirt in at the waist, and was now reaching under it to get a feel.

"Well, they certainly seem to be getting comfortable," Raditz joked. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in a little more than just an autograph?"

* * *

  
They spent a pleasant hour before the girls had to go. Nappa, who'd been quietly watching their little private show, escorted them to their car like a gentleman, and no one said anything about the Polaroids he'd taken while his bandmates were having their fun. (Both Turles and Raditz would pay him for those photos later, and Nappa would pretend at first that he wasn't interested in selling, just to coax a few more bucks out of them.)

As it turned out, Launch had been interested in quite a bit more than an autograph. Raditz had had quite a bit of fun caressing her body and making her squeal when he reached up that leather miniskirt she was wearing. He'd wanted to go all the way, but Launch insisted on a condom if they were gonna do that, and Raditz didn't have one. None of the others would give him a spare, either.

Lapis' T-shirt buckle was abandoned on the dressing-room floor. Turles had lipstick in places much farther south than lipstick generally goes, Raditz had a sizable hickey, and Kakarot and Vegeta had stumbled back in with their hair and clothes in disarray and their own set of hickeys. This time, the other men didn't comment on it.

"Hey, Rad, what's this?" Kakarot picked up a bit of paper. Raditz' name was on it.

"Huh," Raditz said, unfolding it. "She must've had even more fun than I did."

On the paper was a lipstick print, a phone number, and the words "Call me!!" His number-one fan with the great body must want a rain check on that sex.

"At least you got your girl's number," Turles snapped. "All I got was a hummer and a handful of tits."

"You were with a girl, Rad?" Kakarot perked up. "Good for you! It's been long enough."

"Launch Jones," Raditz murmured, still looking at that paper and remembering the girl who'd blown his mind (and other parts). He was definitely going to call her tomorrow night before they left town.

**Author's Note:**

> T-shirt buckles are a real thing that people really wore in the 80s and early 90s. My mom had a few when I was a kid.


End file.
